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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143990">Mistletoe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvspberry/pseuds/rvspberry'>rvspberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Winter Wonderland [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>??? - Freeform, Bossy Steve Harrington, Boys Kissing, Christmas Party, Come Eating, Drunken Shenanigans, Hand &amp; Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Just a small mention thanks Neil, M/M, Making Out, Mistletoe, POV Billy Hargrove, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, They have to be quiet, there’s a party in the next room</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:07:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvspberry/pseuds/rvspberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Billy started out his night, he didn’t think he’d end up at the Henderson house with whiskey in his stomach and Steve Harrington’s tongue down his throat, but he’s not complaining now that he’s here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Winter Wonderland [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>157</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mistletoe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had given myself a 12 Days of Christmas prompt list back in October/early November but I gave up after finishing two. Here is the first one, in absolute no relation to the second one coming hopefully soon!</p><p>The prompt was “mistletoe.” Because mistletoe (and whiskey) made them do it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Billy started out his night, he didn’t think he’d end up at the Henderson house with whiskey in his stomach and Steve Harrington’s tongue down his throat, but he’s not complaining now that he’s here.</p><p>In fact, it’s probably the best Christmas Eve Billy’s had since his mom left him with Neil.</p><p>There’s not a lot of competition for making out with Steve Harrington when the comparison is the silent treatment on a good day and a fist to the face on a bad one.</p><p>Maybe that’s sad, and maybe Billy needs to make better memories now that Neil is behind bars and Susan has custody of him and Max, but… in his defense, tongue-fucking with Steve is a pretty amazing memory.</p><p>It all started when Max told him earlier in the evening that she needed a ride to the house of one of her nerd-friends. He took one look at her dress, the nice shoes, the braids she had Susan plait into her hair, and raised a single eyebrow to express his curiosity.</p><p>Max blushed and stammered even though Billy didn’t say a word. Didn’t have to, with the judgment clear on his face.</p><p>“There’s a Christmas party,” she finally confessed, shrugging and huffing in annoyance, and Billy nodded his understanding.</p><p>“Gotcha. Trying to make an impression on someone?”</p><p>“No!” She yelled at him, shoving at his arm. “You driving me or what?!”</p><p>“Yeah, shitbird, I’m driving you,” Billy groaned, rolling his eyes and sliding a cigarette in between his lips as they stepped out into the cold of the Indiana winter fast upon them.</p><p>That had been two hours ago. And in the span of two hours, Billy got invited into the party, offered swigs of whiskey from the bottle in Steve’s hands, and was cornered under the mistletoe.</p><p>...Okay, so “cornered” wasn’t really the word.</p><p>See, Steve had paused in the doorway to hand Billy the bottle for another sip when Max snickered all of a sudden and pointed above their heads.</p><p>“You idiots get to kiss now,” she called out, her voice a pleased, smug sing-song to mock him.</p><p>Billy glared at her, was about to snap at her to shut up if she wanted a ride home - an empty threat, obviously - but Steve had just laughed and smiled. Gently nudged Billy’s side with his elbow until Billy looked at him and met those dark eyes with his own lighter ones. He schooled his features to not give himself away, but Steve leaned in and pressed their lips together like it took him no effort at all.</p><p>Billy didn’t even really get to enjoy the softness of Steve’s mouth against his own with all the jeering and laughter behind them. As soon as his eyes flutter closed, the kiss was over and Steve pulled back to leave Billy wanting.</p><p>When Billy opened his eyes, Steve must have seen something in swirling in the blue because he gripped Billy’s wrist in his hand and dragged him down the hall. They fumbled into a guest room done up like they’re still in the ‘60s and Steve immediately pushed Billy against the door and slid their mouths together desperately. Billy’s hands moved to clutch at Steve, one in his hair and one between his shoulder blades.</p><p>Which is how he found himself here, now, with his shirt pushed up around his stomach, jeans halfway undone, with Steve’s hand slipping down his stomach because damn if Steve Harrington doesn’t kiss filthy and sweet all at once. It sets Billy aflame. Billy’s head feels dizzy from how fast things progressed but he’d be an idiot to do anything but push pointedly into Steve’s hand.</p><p>“You like that?” Steve whispers into Billy’s ear and the blonde shivers from it. There’s whiskey on both their breaths and Billy’s limbs are loose and warm, and arousal floods through his veins.</p><p>“Of course I fucking like it,” he replies, gruff and a little sour, but he doesn’t want Steve to stop. <i>Obviously</i>. “Don’t stop.”</p><p>Steve cups him through his underwear and rubs teasingly, not giving Billy anything of what he wants. What he craves. Billy groans and his head falls against the door behind him.</p><p>“You’re thicker than I thought you’d be,” comes Steve’s voice, low and husky, as he curls his fingers around the base of Billy’s dick through the fabric of his boxers.</p><p>His cock kicks in Steve’s grip from both the words and the sound of Steve’s voice. <i>God above</i>, Steve’s voice is really doing things to him. “You thought about this before, pretty boy?”</p><p>“Yes,” Steve confesses in an eager hiss. Like it’s a given. Like Billy should have known that Steve’s thought about touching him.</p><p>It’s a lot hotter than Billy will ever admit.</p><p>Steve strokes him loosely through his boxers and it’s almost a ghost of a touch compared to what Billy needs. Billy shifts restlessly against the door, dropping his head forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder.</p><p>“C’mon, Steve…”</p><p>And so Steve shoves Billy’s boxers down <i>just enough</i>, licks his hand, then leans in with a knee shoved between both of Billy’s to keep him pinned where he is, unable to move away - as if he even wanted to - and finally starts touching Billy. <i>Really</i> touching him, fingers forming a tight circle around his dick and jerking him firmly; thumbing at the head with every pass.</p><p>Billy lets out a groan. The touches are no longer fleeting and teasing. He looks down to watch, breath going shallow at the sight of the head popping through the circle of Steve’s fingers. It could be anyone’s hand, but Billy <i>knows</i> Steve’s hands.</p><p>He wants to cum all over Steve’s fist.</p><p>So, like, Billy wouldn’t admit to this either, but he’s thought about this, too.</p><p>What Steve’s big hands would feel like wrapped around him. What Steve’s hand would look like with Billy’s cock between his fingers. How Steve would touch him, how Steve would talk to him. Holding his hand, twining their fingers together, having his hands pinned down. Feeling Steve’s hands braced against his chest as Steve rides him...</p><p>Honestly, Billy’s imagination is as active as his sex drive.</p><p>Usually, Billy’s so talkative at any other time, in any other place, but right he clams up now, panting and trying to focus on this moment because he doubts he’ll get another chance like this again. Reaches out almost tentatively to clutch at the obnoxiously soft, red sweater Steve wore to the party, and Steve presses in closer, mouthing at Billy’s lips.</p><p>Billy is too distracted to nip at Steve’s in return and drag him in for another kiss.</p><p>“Better stay quiet,” he murmurs teasingly, brushing their lips together. “Don’t want any of them to hear you. Just for us, right?”</p><p>Steve doesn’t make a lot of sense, but at the same time, they’re both drunk so somehow Billy knows <i>exactly</i> what Steve’s saying.</p><p>It’s possessive and bossy and it shoots heat through his gut to his dick, and if he wasn’t hard before, he is now. He swears he’s in a waking wet dream. He lets out a gasp and his head hits the door again when Steve leans back just enough to spit down between them a little off-target, so he has to spit again and again until it’s wet and messy. And Billy loves it, loves it even more when Steve tightens his fist and starts jacking him off with the intent to please rather than to tease.</p><p>“Shhh...” Steve slides his free hand from where he’d been bracing it against the door to instead brush over Billy’s mouth.</p><p>Two fingers trace the outline of Billy’s lips, pink and parted and panting, then brush against the tip of his tongue. They taste kinda salty, kinda like whiskey too, a little like the sugarcookies Mrs. Sinclair made. Billy flicks his tongue out against the digits only to feel Steve press them in slow and muffle the groan that bubbles up in Billy’s throat.</p><p>“So noisy, baby…” Steve chastises, shaking his head as his hair flops into his face. So drunk. So cute. “Wanna get you all alone so I can hear it all. Wanna hear everything you got for me.”</p><p>Billy closes his eyes against the wave of arousal crashing through him and works his tongue against Steve’s fingers to chase the flavor of them. Gets them wet. He’s thinking about where else Steve’s fingers could go when they press even deeper and knock against his soft palate. Billy gags a little in surprise. He can feel Steve falter and go to pull his hand away, can practically see the apology clinging to his lips, but Billy moves his hand to wrap his own thick fingers around Steve’s wrist. Sucks on them purposefully and lets his eyes flutter open to glance at Steve only to meet brown eyes with pupils blown wide and hot and fixated entirely on Billy.</p><p>Steve bites at his own lower lip and pushes them back in again, letting out a shaky breath when a tiny moan vibrates around them. There’s drool building in the corners of Billy’s mouth, and Steve thrusts them back in roughly with a grunt in his chest.</p><p>Billy is so distracted by Steve’s fingers in his mouth that he can’t help the little keening moan that slips out when Steve’s hand on his dick starts back up and Steve’s thumb plays along the slit. He swirls the precum Billy’s been steadily dripping around the head, making it so slick and <i>good</i> that pleasure zings up his spine. With Steve’s fingers as a firm reminder to stay quiet, Billy’s mouth drops open in a silent moan.</p><p>His hips arch up, pushing into the tightness of Steve’s fist, fucking into the grip of his big hand, whimpering each time Steve’s thumb catches over the head again.</p><p>“Can feel you getting close.” Steve’s speaks low and husky in his ear, and Billy slide his teeth gently over Steve’s fingers still in his mouth. He’d have bit at Steve’s shoulder, his fucking <i>neck</i> to leave a mark for everyone to know what they’ve been up to in here, had his mouth not been otherwise occupied, but…</p><p>Billy couldn’t be further from complaining with Steve’s fingers fucking his mouth. He hasn’t been complaining <i>all night</i>, and he lets his hand fall away from Steve’s wrist to grab his hip and pull him even closer. The angle gets awkward, Billy’s sure, for Steve to keep touching his hand where it is, his grip as tight as it is. So Billy works his hips up into Steve’s hand, doing all of the work. How could he mind when Steve’s laser-focused and blurry-eyed on Billy’s mouth stretched around his middle and index finger? Or when Steve’s presses a third digit inside and Billy really starts drooling around them as they piston in and out of his mouth?</p><p>Saliva drips down Billy’s chin.</p><p>He’s a mess, Steve made him a mess, and he fucking <i>loves</i> it.</p><p>“Wanna see you fall apart for me-” Steve’s panting like he’s the one struggling to breathe, and maybe he is; maybe he’s just as overwhelmed with desire and lust and pure <i>want</i> as Billy is. “-Wanna hear you cum for me, baby, <i>please…</i>”</p><p>Billy thinks of all the nights that word tripped over his lips as he thought of Steve touching him. His stomach goes tight and his breathy goes shuddery, fingers scrabbling for purchase in Steve’s sweater, because it’s the “please” that catches his memory, stirs up all the unfulfilled longing, unfulfilled between them <i>both</i>, until now, finally being slated with those hands he swears he <i>dreams</i> about-</p><p>He bites down on Steve’s fingers when he cums with muffled grunts as his hips stutter, working his dick through the tight circle of Steve’s fist until there’s cum all over Steve’s hand and fingers and even a little on the hem of Steve’s sweater. Billy pants and goes boneless as his mind reels from both the alcohol and the orgasm.</p><p>Fingers slip from Billy’s spit-slick lips, only to be replaced by the fingers covered in Billy’s own cum. He inhales sharply, surprised, and his eyes flick open widely as he catches Steve’s mischievous gaze.</p><p>“Clean them up,” he instructs. Steve could say practically anything right now and Billy would do it.</p><p>Steve presses two in deep, and Billy curls his tongue around them, blue eyes shut tight in concentration as he licks them clean. They slip from his lips but Steve just holds his hand up, raising an eyebrow expectantly and smirking when Billy’s cheeks flush. But Billy doesn’t protest, just lets his tongue wriggle against Steve’s palm, kitten-licks up his wrist and over the back of his hand, sucks Steve’s thumb into his mouth last before letting it pop out with a loud, wet, messy noise.</p><p>Steve presses their bodies together and murmurs, “Good boy,” into Billy’s ear, and Billy knows without a doubt that this is the best Christmas Eve he’s ever had.</p>
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